The Big Vacation in the Sky

So I'm moving in a week and a half. This means that for the foreseeable future my life will be consumed by boxes. I will be hunting for boxes, taping up boxes, packing boxes, stacking boxes, asking random passersby on the street if they know where more boxes are, and finally moving all those boxes onto a massive boxy vehicle that no one in his right mind should let me drive.

Why all the boxes you ask? Because my wife and I are pack rats. This means we have objects that we will willingly pack up and move, and the only time we will see those objects again is the next time we pack up and move. (What? You expect us to throw out a perfectly good wire even though we have no idea what it plugs into? We might need that!) While this makes the moving experience more time-consuming, it also makes it a lot more fun because we rediscover those things we have kept even with a remote sense of sentimental value.

Looking back over yearbooks, old ticket stubs and forgotten picture frames made me realize how many people I've known whom I will never see again. It's a sad thought, unless the person was a Christian. If he or she was, it should be a joyful thought because I know I am are going to see this person in heaven.

Heaven is one of those subjects that I feel gets totally underplayed by Christians in America (and I myself am completely guilty). We are so busy and so focused on what's going on right now that we are missing out on the fact that we have a guaranteed paradise awaiting us at the end.

Think about how much you look forward to a good vacation. You plan it, make preparations, think about it when you get bored at work, and talk about it excitedly with the people you are going with. Now imagine that you are going on the best possible vacation that exists, that it will literally never end, and that every Christian you've ever known is going to be there partying with you. That's heaven. It's like a honeymoon and a retirement and an awesome family reunion all wrapped up in one.

We should be celebrating this every day. We should be so joyful that we have this to look forward to. We should be planning for it and making preparations. Compared to it, everything else in life pales. All our cars, houses and toys look completely lame because we can't bring them with us.

Here's what C.S. Lewis says on the subject in "The Weight of Glory," his classic essay: "Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

Try to remember the big vacation in the sky awaiting you at the end as you walk through this week. Don't forget about how awesome it's going to be. If we can learn to live in light of it, we will make different decisions. We will spend our money differently. We will look at struggles differently. We will talk to people differently because we will want to look for every opportunity to invite them on our vacation. And we will certainly live life more joyfully.

Now, if I could only find some more boxes ...